


Scorch

by Feeeshy



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Age Difference, Breeding Kink, Deepthroating, F/M, Heat Fic, Impregnation, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Power Imbalance, Pre-Canon, Rough Sex, Royalty, Rutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feeeshy/pseuds/Feeeshy
Summary: It started with hushed whispers among the palace staff. Things said with the breath of disbelief or horror, depending on who spoke it. Most waved it off as idle gossip—until the maids were summoned, one by one, for interviews in the empress’s sitting room.This year, Her Majesty searched for another to tend to the emperor during his rut.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Original Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 73
Collections: Heat Wave





	1. Proposition

It started with hushed whispers among the palace staff. Things said with the breath of disbelief or horror, depending on who spoke it. Most waved it off as idle gossip—until the maids were summoned, one by one, for interviews in the empress’s sitting room.

This year, Her Majesty searched for another to tend to the emperor during his rut.

***

Arria rocked on the balls of her feet as she waited in the hallway outside the sitting room. Being one of the newest hires, her tasks kept her tending to the more modest things—laundry for the house staff, helping in the kitchen, sweeping the entrances. This was her first time in the royal wing, let alone speaking to the empress, and that gave her a nervousness she was unaccustomed to. 

She jumped with surprise when the door next to her opened. Without a passing glance, the maid before her hurried out, and a voice from within the room called for her to enter. Glancing over herself to make sure her apron and uniform were in order, she collected herself and walked through the gilded doorway.

Inside, the afternoon sun spilled in from the large windows set into the far wall. The cold steel of the rest of the palace gave way to a lighter cream color on the walls here, with gold and pink accents highlighting the raised paneling of the walls. Her Majesty, dressed in a gown decorated with rich velvet and gems, sat in a plush loveseat with her two ladies-in-waiting standing on either side. A mahogany chair stood across from her, with a small round table between them.

Remembering herself, Arria bowed deeply before Her Majesty, but nerves took her words when she tried to address her. If the empress took offense, she made no comment.

“Sit,” Her Majesty commanded. With a gloved hand, she motioned to the chair across from her. Arria hurriedly sat down.

“I’m sure you already know why I’ve called you. Gossip is wont to travel quickly here.” The empress regarded Arria with a cool gaze in her blue eyes. Their Majesties both had ten years on Arria, but the empress’s smooth complexion defied her age.

Arria swallowed thickly when she realized a reply was expected. “Y-yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good.” She rested her hands on her lap and crossed her legs, the motion hidden under layers of petticoats and skirts. “Let me start off by saying this: I don’t want to put someone in this position who abhors it, and neither does he. If you don’t wish to be considered, you are free to leave. We still have yet a long search ahead of us, I suspect, and precious few days to do it, so I would rather not waste my time. But, for what we ask of you, know that you will be compensated. Greatly.” She sat up taller, looking down her nose at Arria. “Well?”

Arria shook her head, her heartbeat loud in her ears. “M-may I ask a question, Your Majesty?”

She clicked her tongue. “I’ll take that you are not immediately turned away as a hopeful sign. Very well. You no doubt wonder why I am seeking a...replacement, as it were?”

Arria nodded, grateful to the empress for putting the words to her query.

“I will be blunt," the empress continued. "When the rut is upon him, the emperor becomes violent in his lovemaking.” Her gaze drifted to the window as she spoke, looking out onto the grounds. “While His Radiance and I agree on many things, in this regard we...differ. I have put up with it in the past, but he has agreed to take another this year, for both our sakes.” She turned back to Arria. “Make no mistake. If you accept this, you will not leave unmarred.” 

Arria’s jaw set tight as her nerves gave way to a flash of excitement. “I-I understand, Your Majesty.”

For a long moment, the empress studied her with narrowed eyes. Arria worried she might see through her with that piercing gaze, seeing to her core how the chance to sleep with the emperor set a fire in her. She had never met Emperor Solus, nor even seen him in passing in the halls, but the portraits hung about the palace depicted him as a man with a striking figure and handsome features. 

“You still wish to proceed?” the empress asked. Arria nodded. “Very well. You are but one of a few of the dozens we have asked. Gratia here will escort you to the emperor himself, so that he might cast his own judgement. If he finds you agreeable, expect to be called upon in a few day’s time.”

The lady-in-waiting standing to her right bowed before heading to the door, beckoning Arria to follow. The two walked in silence away from the wing that housed the royal bedchambers and into the hallways Arria knew a little better. On this side of the palace was where the business of running Garlemald happened, and she had assignments before to clean the lesser offices and libraries housed here. At the far end of the hall, behind a magnificent pair of doors only the housekeeper was permitted to clean, was the office of Emperor Solus.

Gratia knocked on the metal door, the sound reverberating against the high ceiling. From inside a voice called out, granting them permission to enter. 

Behind a heavy mahogany desk sat Emperor Solus, dressed down more than what Arria had seen in his portraits. His regalia coats hung on a rack by the desk, leaving him in a simple shirt and the red sash across his chest that denoted his status. His lock of white hair hung in front of his face as he read over the parchment on the desk in front of him.

The sound of the doors clicking closed behind Arria echoed in the large room. Once again etiquette caught up with her, and she hastily bowed deeply before the Emperor of Garlemald.

“Has Her Majesty sent you?” he glanced up from his work, golden eyes lingering for only a moment before his attention turned back to the papers in front of him.

Arria attempted to speak, but the words got caught in her throat. She coughed and tried again. “Y-yes, Your Radiance.”

“Then I’m sure she has informed you of my… tendencies?” He picked up his pen from its inkwell and scribbled something on one of the papers, only giving Arria half his attention.

“Yes, Your Radiance.”

He returned the pen to its inkwell, then leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, allowing his gaze to roam over her. “I’ll have water canteens on the bedside table, and will summon the royal conjurer to tend to your wounds when the chance presents itself. Does that sound acceptable?”

“Yes, Your Radiance.” She bunched up the front of her apron in her fists, holding on to it like it might give her courage. “Your Radiance, if I may speak freely for a moment?”

Cocking his head to the side, he tapped his finger against his arm. “What is your name?”

“Arria bas Sirica, sir.”

The emperor hummed in thought. “And what is it you would like to say, Arria?”

She bit her lip at the lovely sound of her name on his tongue. “I-I’ve had men who are similar to you, in the past. In how it takes hold of them. I am not unaccustomed to… rougher treatment. Nor do I dislike it.”

The faintest of smiles ghosted across his lips. “Is that so? You mean to tell me you might enjoy it?”

His smile widened at her answering silence, the gold of his eyes dancing with mirth like a burning fire. Retrieving his pen, he set his attention back to his work, but the smile remained. “Don’t let Her Majesty hear you’ll overly enjoy it, or she might not let me play with you again.”

A shiver overcame her at the promise in his words, but he was polite enough to ignore it. He waved a dismissive hand towards the doors. “You are free to go. When the time comes, a servant will fetch you.”

Arria bowed deeply again, then made for the exit, exhilaration hot in her racing pulse.


	2. Flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure what was going to make the cut for this chapter until I wrote it, so please mind the updated tags.

Two days later, the evening sun hung low in the sky, painting the grey clouds over Garlemald with streaks of orange and yellow. A cold wind nipped at Arria. She hurried to finish sweeping the stairs to the kitchen, her wool coat over her uniform offering little protection from the weather. After this was done, she could attend to her work inside and warm herself by one of the kitchen’s stoves.

“Excuse me, but are you Arria bas Sirica, by chance?”

A man’s voice called to her from the bottom of the stairs. She looked down at him, standing straight-backed in his pressed three-piece uniform, and recognized him from the morning meetings of the palace staff. He worked under the butler.

“I am.” She placed the broom handle against the railing and rubbed her hands together for warmth. “Can I help you?”

“His Radiance has requested your presence.”

Arria’s mouth formed a silent ‘oh’, words having failed her. What had filled her fantasies during the past few nights now made manifest.

Keeping the thrumming in her pulse in check, she followed behind the servant in silence as he led her inside, through the kitchen, past the entrance hall, across the palace to the wing with the royal bedchambers. The lamps had been lit for the evening, their warm light flickering on the metal walls. Gratia waited outside one of the doors. Like the empress, her pale eyes held a coldness to them as she watched them approach.

“Arria?” she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “Come. You need to be made presentable for His Radiance.”

Arria tried to not take offense as Gratia led her into the room. Like the empress’s sitting room, the walls here were cream colored with pink and gold accents, but there were no windows. Scents of flowers and perfumes filled the air, and behind a folding screen waited several court ladies and a large tub. Steam rose from it, with flower petals drifting over the water’s surface.

Growing up in the commoners neighborhood of Garlemald, Arria had never known such luxury as a private, perfumed bath, nor what it was like to have court ladies wait on her like she was an upper class woman. With the skill of ones who attend to royalty, they undressed her and helped her into the tub.

She relaxed against the smooth porcelain as they bathed her with fragrant soaps and washed her hair, untangling the mess a day of cleaning had made of it. Afterward, when she had been dried off with the softest towels Arria had ever known, they applied more perfumes to her wrist and neck, and dressed her in a slip of a dress more suited to summer weather. Following the suggestion of a court lady, she left her smallclothes in the pile with her uniform.

When the court ladies finished, Gratia stepped forward, her level expression looking Arria over.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. 

Even since the servant had found Arria, her body ached with excitement for what was to come, but the lady-in-waiting needn’t know how much she looked forward to her night with the emperor.

“I’m feeling well, thank you.”

Satisfied with that answer, Gratia picked up a small bottle from a nearby table and held it out to her.

“Drink this,” she ordered, then rolled her eyes at Arria’s questioning look. “A heat suppressant. Their Majesties don’t want a bastard born from this.”

Oh. Arria hadn’t thought of that. Her own heat came in the warmer spring months, but she had known friends who had theirs triggered early by a man’s rut. Thinking better to be safe, under the watchful gaze of Gratia, she downed the bitter concoction to the last drop.

Satisfied, Gratia took a long breath in. “Are you ready to meet His Radiance?”

Arria nodded. With the lady-in-waiting leading, the two left the fragrant room behind, and walked further down the hall until they came to a door that sat at the far end. 

Gratia looked over with pinched brows and worried eyes, opening her mouth like she meant to say something, but thought again. With her expression smoothed back out to cool indifference, she gave Arria one last glance, then knocked on the door and turned away, leaving the way she came.

“You may enter,” Emperor Solus called from within.

The gilded handle turned easily under Arria’s touch, the door opening to one of the largest room’s she had seen in the palace. Emperor Solus stood facing a large fireplace set into a wall, the roaring fire casting his shadow long over the dimly lit room. Like the other day, he was without his heavy regalia, only wearing a simple shirt and trousers. The red sash rested atop the mantel.

Unlike the empress, he kept the cold metal of the rest of the palace in his bedchamber. Flags and banners torn and singed at the edges adorned the walls, along with the mounts of weapons stained from battle. A few paintings of landscapes offered some relief from the overbearing feeling of the room—one of the countryside during spring, one of the eastern mountain range, and another of a strange city with twisting spires. 

Remembering her manners this time, Arria bowed before him, keeping her eyes to the floor as her nerves took her again. Her hands fidgeted in the silk of her dress. She was unsure what to do with herself in such a cavernous room surrounded by the spoils of war. 

Emperor Solus’s shoes clicked against the floor as he walked to her. All at once, she caught the scent of him, the musk of his rut already heavy in the air. A gentle fingertip under her chin tilted her head upward, bringing her eyes to meet his golden ones. His gaze remained impassive, but with his scent this thick, she knew the rut must be driving him mad inside.

“So quiet,” he commented. “You may speak freely tonight. And you may address me simply as Solus while we’re together, since you’ve decided to so graciously serve me in this capacity.”

His thumb brushed against her cheek as he cradled her chin, distracting her mind from her words for a moment. “O-oh, no, Your Radiance. I could never be so informal.”

Brow quirking, his hand slid down her throat to her shoulder. Arria’s breath caught as he leaned forward, his cheek pressing to hers, breathing deep of her.

“I see. Priscilla claims to be fine with this, and yet she covers you in her perfumes and dresses you in her clothes.” His other hand came to rest on her low back. “She wants me to think of her even as I wring every onze of pleasure from you.” The hand on her back pushed her forward, pressing her stomach against the hardness growing at the front of his trousers. It stoked the fire that had been simmering in her veins all evening. “But I needn’t know your scent to know your heart. You want this just as badly as I, don’t you?”

His chest muffled Arria’s gasp with how close he held her. “Yes, Your Radiance.” Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, her excitement growing, the feeling of his warmth intoxicating.

His lips crashed into hers in a demanding, forceful kiss, his tongue swiping into her mouth. She tried her best to return his fervor, but her nerves made her seem unpracticed.

He broke away and licked his lips. “Bitter. You’ve been given something to stave off your heat, haven’t you?”

“Y-yes, my lord. Not wanting a bastard and all…”

He lightly nipped the shell of her ear, getting another gasp from her. “I wouldn’t have minded. Watch you swell with my seed.” He sighed and nuzzled into the crook of her neck. “Wouldn’t that be lovely…”

“It-it is the rut making you say such things, Your Radiance.” But she loved to hear it. She squeezed her thighs together, an attempt to seek relief for the throbbing between her legs.

Suddenly he turned from her and strode back to the fireplace. A blush colored Arria’s cheeks as she took in the scene—a large fur rug had been laid in front of it, with a few pillows and blankets placed around. A nest for him to have her in.

He sat in an opulent chair along the rug’s edge and waved her over. On shaking legs, she crossed the room to stand before him.

“So obedient.” He smirked. “Good. Now kneel.”

“Y-your Radiance?”

“Come now.” He leaned back in the chair and started working his trousers open. “Kneel. I want you to taste me. Appreciate what you’ll be taking until I’m satisfied.” He freed his cock to the humid air, the column of it standing tall and flushed red, the tip swollen and weeping. Arria wetted her lips at the sight.

Wrapping his long fingers around himself, he gave a few pumps as he watched her get to her knees between his thighs. But something caused his brows to furrow.

“You’ve pleasured a man like this before, yes?”

She smiled, taking him in hand. His cock jumped at her touch. “I have, Your Radiance.” While never had she tasted royalty, she was well practiced in pleasuring others with her mouth.

“Good, good,” he purred as she pressed her lips on him in a kiss to his tip. The flat of her tongue dragged over his slit, savoring his salty taste as another bead of pre gathered. In slow circles she traced his tip with her tongue, then moved down to lick along the ridge of his head.

“You’re just as lovely as I imagined,” he sighed. His fingers carded through her hair in soothing strokes as she lapped at him. “I’ve thought about you, you know. Last night while taking myself in hand. The hunger grew as the rut approached.” He spread his legs wider and sank lower in his seat. “It’s how I knew you’d be the best one to satisfy me.”

Under her grip, at his base, his knot began to swell. It spurred her on, eager to please His Radiance. She sat up to the balls of her feet to get a better angle and slowly lowered her mouth around him. His fiery, silken skin slid past her lips, down as far as she could take him. Her fingers gripped as far around as they could and pumped him in time with her head bows. 

With every stroke, with every hollowing of her cheeks, the muscles of his stomach tightened and flexed. Arria took his growing knot in hand, heavy and hot against her palm, and kneaded it between her fingers, tearing a deep moan from the emperor’s throat that filled the room.

“Relax your jaw,” he hissed. His fingers tangled in her hair and pushed her down until his tip hit the back of her throat, then pushed deeper beyond, tears welling in her eyes, her throat spasming around his girth. After a few fitful thrusts down her throat, the heady taste of him overwhelmed her. Spit dripped down her chin.

He pulled her off and freed his hand from her hair, and she instantly turned to the side and coughed, throat raw. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. It wasn’t often that she had someone that deep, but the feeling of being used for another’s pleasure was a pleasant burn.

Spend wept down the length of him, but the rut kept him from flagging. “Can’t have this going to waste.” He dragged his thumb up himself to catch a heavy drop, then reached forward and pressed it against her swollen lips. Like a dutiful servant, she licked the pad of his thumb clean.

The orange and reds of the fire danced in his golden eyes as he watched her. “I told Priscilla I wouldn’t, but she doesn’t have to know, does she…” he mumbled under his breath.

“Wouldn’t what, Your Radiance?” Her voice came out low and roughed from his treatment.

His fingers held her chin. “I’ve decided that I’m going to knot you.”

Arria’s breath stuttered. 

In one smooth motion he rose from his chair while a hand on her chest guided her to lie down on the rug and blankets. Her knees spread for him, earning her a chuckle as he kneeled between her legs.

“So willing under my touch.” 

“Please, Your Radiance,” Arria huffed, not sure how to feel about being teased by the emperor, but she was ready to take him, had been since the moment the servant found her earlier.

He leaned back, quickly unbuttoned his shirt and threw it aside. Drops of sweat from the heat of the fire rolled over his chest. Arria dug her fingers into the fur rug underneath to stop herself from reaching for the sight above her, hesitant of how the emperor would react to such forwardness from her.

He reached up her thigh and under her dress, but faltered when he found no smallclothes to pull down. “A wise choice,” he said with a hint of mirth. “I’ve ruined a few of Priscilla’s in the past.”

Hands on the bottom hem of her dress, his eyes flickered up to hers, then he pushed the silk fabric up the length of her body. Arria sucked in a nervous breath through her teeth as she closed her eyes. Despite the fireplace a few fulms away, she shivered, knowing the emperor drank in the sight of her bare form.

Calloused hands rubbed down her side before coming back up to knead her breasts, his grip large enough to have a handful each. “Such a lovely view.”

“T-thank you, You Radiance.”

Her eyes stayed shut until she felt his tip press to her slit, and an embarrassing whimper escaped her lips. So ready she was to take him that her sex dripped with want, making it easy for him to slide in until his knot pushed against her entrance.

From above, his golden eyes gazed down at her, the white streak in his hair falling forward. With his hands planted on either side of her head, he surrounded her, his scent of rut mixing with the smoke of the fireplace.

“Have you taken one before?” he rocked his hips, the movement stretching her but not enough for him to push deeper.

“Y-yes.” She swallowed. “I-it’s been awhile, but I have.”

He smiled. “You are the perfect plaything, aren’t you?”

She blushed at his praise. He started to move against her, and each time she could feel the swell of him opening her more and more. It ached in the most decadent way, how big he was, how his hips snapped with determination to get his knot inside her walls. And Arria wanted it so bad, to be united with him in such an intimate way, she tried willing her body to relax more so she could take him.

A broken cry came from her as his movements grew desperate. The force of him rocked her body so much she forgot her earlier worries and gripped at him, her fingernails digging crescents into his arms. Lunging forward, he pinned her under his weight, her lithe frame at the mercy of his movements. With a final thrust, he forced the swell of the knot past her entrance, popping it inside her walls.

The suddenness of it knocked the wind from her. Her body went rigid at the painful intrusion, digging her nails into his skin like a lifeline as he continued to rock into her, sending her to her own release as he chased his second. With a moan that sounded like her name, his hot seed filled her.

Their labored breath mingled in the quiet room, only accompanied by the gentle crackling of the fire. The knot throbbed within her, a heavy weight inside that locked them firmly together, and with each pulse another wave of pleasure rolled through her.

Snaking an arm under her, he rolled them over, making her sit on top of him. Her dress fell down, but he tugged at the edge in a silent command for her to take it off, which she wordlessly obeyed. She helped him out of the rest of his clothes.

He coaxed her to lie down against him. With him stuck inside, he had to tilt his hips up so she could rest her head on his chest. The heat from the fire was strong on her bare skin as she relaxed atop of him, lulled by the deep rise and fall of his breathing. He traced soothing circles on her back with his fingertips.

“Anything you’d like to talk about while we catch our breath?” Solus rubbed the nape of her neck. “Or are you still holding your tongue?”

Arria’s brows furrowed, not sure what was fitting conversation with royalty. After a quick glance around from her vantage point, her eyes settled on the strange painting she had seen earlier, the one with the large city and twisting spires set against a blue sky. She cleared her throat.

“Where is that a painting of? It’s not Garlemald, is it?”

His fingers drummed against her. “What makes you ask about that?”

“It’s the only thing in this room I don’t recognize, Your Radiance.”

The emperor thought for a moment. “It’s a place I’ve seen in my dreams many times. So struck by its beauty, I commissioned an artist to recreate it.”

Arria had heard about this before, how the great battle tested Solus had a soft spot for the arts. But before she could dwell on that, his hips started to shift against her again in small movements.

“Another round already?” she asked with a smile.

“Of course,” he grumbled, more to himself than her. “This damnable, insatiable need. Never have I known something so maddening, ever since I took this vessel.” Before she could ask what he meant, his hips jerked up into her, making her yelp. “I will take you all night, and each time it will only offer momentary relief.”

In his frustration he dragged his nails down her back in red lines, then wrapped his arms around her and held her pressed tight to himself. A blaze shot through her as he took her with quick, short thrusts, fucking her with the knot moving inside, the sensation pulling whimpers from her.

“That won’t do,” he growled in her ear. He bit her shoulder, hard, making her buck against his hold and cry out in ecstasy.

But he pulled away suddenly, his hips stuttering to a stop. His grip on her loosened.

She whined at the sudden loss of friction, sitting up on his chest enough to look down at him. “Is something the matter, Your Radiance? I don’t mind this rougher treatment, if that’s what has you concerned.”

He looked up at her with searching eyes. “No, no, it’s not that. It’s—I can taste it on you.” He swallowed. “With the perfumes, I couldn’t catch the scent—but now I realize—”

“Y-your Radiance?”

Worry created lines around his third eye. “Can you not feel it yourself?”

Arria froze above him.

Far too late, she realized this fever pumping through her veins was more than just normal arousal.

Her heat had snuck up on her, hidden behind her desire and mixed into her eagerness. 

“The potion wouldn’t work if it was already upon me.” She should be more troubled about this, but the words came out flat, unaffected. A small part of her cried out for her to end this and hope nothing hadn’t taken yet. But she couldn’t bring herself to say anything.

She wanted this so badly, to be his all night long. 

As if feeling her hesitation, Solus gave a thoughtful hum. “Wouldn’t be the first time a ruler has had illegitimate heirs, I suppose.”

“You’re so casual about it.”

He hummed again. With a gentle hand to the back of her head, Solus pulled her down to mouth along her neck.

“Your Radiance?” 

“Perhaps you wouldn’t be the first that I have fathered a bastard with.” He drew away enough to cock a brow at her.

Arria blinked at him with wide eyes. She didn’t know what to say to that confession, that the emperor had heirs other than the two princes.

“But tell me,” Solus continued with a sly smile, “were you looking forward to bedding me that much? Did I haunt your dreams like you did mine?”

At that, Arria pointedly looked away. He chuckled, a warm sounding noise that created butterflies in her stomach.

“Keep going,” she said instead of answering his question.

“Hm?”

“Keep going.” She turned back to him and held his gaze with her own. “I don’t want to stop, if you don’t.”

Something flashed across his eyes. In a swift motion he rolled them so he was on top of her again, hiking her legs up and over his shoulders as he bore down on her. Like a damn breaking his pace became merciless, ensuring an ache in her legs for days to come.

Arria moaned into the night, pleasure wracking her body. As long as he would have her, she would gladly allow him to take all he wanted from her, and everything that it would entail.

***

The next morning’s sun found them on the bed, having moved to a more comfortable spot during the night. Solus leisurely rolled his hips into her. His knot had lessened enough for him to easily slide the length of himself in and out.

“The conjurer will be along with the breakfast tray soon,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “Then we can sleep and keep going at it once we’re rested.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “How does that sound, my dear?”

“Sounds lovely, Solus,” Arria happily sighed.


End file.
